


Gone, But Never Lost

by emeraldcranberryjuice



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Get Together, M/M, Teiko arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcranberryjuice/pseuds/emeraldcranberryjuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Away games were Midorima's personal brand of hell, until Akashi came soaring into his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone, But Never Lost

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first knb fic. I don't own the manga/anime.

Away games were Midorima’s personal brand of hell. Long hours in a bus led to long nights in a cramped hotel room with off-white walls and too-white sheets that reeked of bleach that he was forced to share with Murasakibara. He missed his bed and his pillows that smelled of vanilla. And Murasakibara snored.

Loudly.

And throughout the night.

He would’ve rather shared a room with Aomine or Kuroko or Akashi, but the stupid light/shadow pair insisted that they had to share a room and Akashi had to share with the captain. So his choices were either the snoring beast or Haizaki.

He chose the lesser of the two evils.

This particular night he’d had the foresight to pack earplugs, and as he was about to put them in there was a knock on the door. He glanced over at the snoring purple haired beast in the other bed, got up, and opened the door. Akashi stood in the hallway, his eyes barely open in the light.

"Nijimura is ill," Akashi stated. "Do you mind if I share with you?"

Midorima shook his head and stepped to the side to let him in. Grabbing the spare pillow and blanket from the closet, Midorima crouched on the ground to make a make-shift bed.

Akashi grabbed the pillow out of his hands. “Don’t be such a girl. The bed is big enough for us to share.”

"I was trying to be polite."

Akashi rolled his eyes and settled underneath the covers. Midorima rolled onto the other side and placed his glasses on the nightstand.

"Goodnight, Midorima."

"Goodnight, Akashi."

"Goodnight, Murasakibara," Murasakibara added.

Akashi snorted and Midorima smiled into his pillow.

The next morning Midorima awoke to find Akashi leaning against the headboard, head bent over his phone.

"Coach just texted me asking why he found Nijimura asleep on the bathroom floor this morning."

"Did you tell him that it was from your sparkling personality?"

Akashi grinned. “I should have.” He got up and stretched, his black t-shirt creeping up to reveal a sharp hipbone. “Thank you for letting me sleep in here.”

He paused by the door. “I haven’t slept that well in a while.”

*****

After Akashi became captain, he changed the sleeping arrangements. He pressed a key card into Midorima’s hand. “Our room is on the fifth floor.”

Midorima picked up his overnight bag and headed to the elevator, still able to hear Kise’s “Why do I have to sleep with Murasakibaracchi?”

Soon he began to look forward to away games. He liked sharing a room with Akashi, who was neat and didn’t have food littered across the room. At night, they would sit on one of the beds and play shogi or chess late into the night. More often than not they would lay in bed with the lights off and talk.

It was nice, Midorima would think as he stared at the ceiling. He didn’t have many friends growing up outside of his younger sister, and it was nice to listen to Akashi tell him about growing up in the country riding horses and exploring the gardens with his mother and in turn Midorima would tell him about the games he and his sister would play.

One night, Akashi asked, “What kind of girls do you like?”

"I don’t know," Midorima responded slowly, shifting his weight. He didn’t really talk to girls outside of the manager, Momoi. "Probably someone smart?"

He heard Akashi nod. “Someone who’s clever.”

"And reads."

"And can play shogi."

They laughed.

They grew quiet. “My father…” Akashi started. “He told me that he met my mother on the first day of junior high and he asked me why I hadn’t found a girlfriend yet.”

Midorima didn’t know what to say. He rolled onto his side and curled away from Akashi.

They mutually agreed not to talk about their night-time conversations in the light of day and especially not around their teammates. Midorima winced. They would stare and think that he was even stranger than they initially guessed.

But there were times when Midorima found himself wanting to talk about these things with Akashi outside of the hotel rooms. Like now, alone in the locker room.

It was a late Friday evening, long past the time appropriate to still be in school. Akashi had asked him to stay late to discuss Aomine’s recent behaviour, and Midorima really didn’t mind; his parents and sister were at the cinema and he didn’t have a specific time to be home.

The locker room was empty and silent outside of the sound of Midorima and Akashi routinely changing out of their sweat-soaked t-shirts and back into their uniforms. Midorima tugged on his slacks and tucked his in his blouse.

"Akashi?"

"Hmm?"

But Midorima faltered, his voice catching in his throat. He watched Akashi pull on his undershirt, the white material stretching over the expanse of back muscles that rippled when he stretched. He stared at the mop of red hair that curled against his neck from sweat. He watched his best friend get dressed and felt a fire ignite within.

"What is it?"

He turned his attention back to his locker. What he wanted to say was ‘I can’t believe that your father said that’ and ‘I don’t know why you don’t have a girlfriend’ or ‘Anyone would be lucky to date you’ and ‘I would.’ But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and retorted, “Ready to walk home?”

Akashi didn’t remark on his odd behaviour when they started to walk down the street. Midorima tightened the scarf around his neck before shoving his hands in his pockets, his fingers turning over the charm bracelet that was today’s lucky item. The fall chill was beginning to set in and the wind whistled through the boulevard and Akashi started to walk closer to Midorima.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Akashi asked.

Midorima shrugged. “Homework, probably.”

“Do you want to hang out on Saturday? There’s a movie marathon of that American director Wes Anderson that I’ve been wanting to watch. My father’s gone, so we can order take-out and watch it on the flat screen.” He paused. “You can spend the night if you want.”

Midorima stopped. Even though he considers the other boy his best friend, he and Akashi have only hung out a handful of times outside of school and basketball club, and most of the time it’s been Midorima’s house. For some reason Akashi always had an excuse on why he couldn’t come to his house. But watching Akashi shift his weight from foot to foot, he couldn’t come with a good reason to say no. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

Akashi let out a sigh and tried to pass it off as a shrug. “Whatever you want. I had the cook buy that red bean drink you like.”

“Sounds good,” Midorima said. “So what did you think about the Maths quiz today?” They continued to walk down the street, talking about nothing in particular, until Akashi had to turn.

The next day Midorima knocked on Akashi’s door, his taped fingers curling around the cool knocker. The door swung open and Akashi, barefoot on the marble floor, ushered him in. He toed off his sneakers and placed his coat and scarf on the black iron coat rack. His mouth dropped. He knew that Akashi was wealthy, but at school he hadn’t registered how absurdly so. Behind the front doors, the entrance hall was open and airy. Large windows framed the door and cast rays of light across the marbled floor. A similar marbled staircase snaked along the wall up to the second floor and a cast-iron chandelier, curled into fleur de lis hung from the ceiling. Midorima was almost embarrassed to have had his friend at his condo, which albeit was in the heart of Tokyo, was easily a fraction of the size.

Akashi coughed next to him and Midorima realised that he was still staring. He flushed. “You have a lovely home,” he muttered.

“Come on. I’ve already ordered the pizza.” Akashi led him down the hall and into a spacious living room. Midorima settled himself in a corner of the leather soda while Akashi turned on the marathon.

Neither spoke, but both sat, enraptured, watching the stories unfold. Somewhere between Rushmore and Moonrise Kingdom, the boys uncurled from their respective corners and inched closer to each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Midorima watched Akashi, who sat wide-eyed with a small smile. And Midorima doesn’t think he’s ever seen his friend look quite like that in his life; enraptured, Akashi looked younger, his features smoothed and relaxed, and free from the furrowed brow and locked jaw that usually plagued his face. He liked this Akashi.

When the movie ended, Akashi yawned. “I think I’m going to pass out.” So Akashi grabbed Midorima’s over night bag and led him up the marble stairs, down the hall, and into his room. He dropped the bag on the ground and flounced on the bed.

“So where’s your dad?” Midorima asked. He watched Akashi curl up into a sitting position to pull off his trousers and crawl under the covers in his boxers and a t-shirt. He was also very aware that there wasn’t a second bed.

“United States,” Akashi retorted. “Some business deal, or that’s what the email said.” Midorima didn’t respond. He carefully folded his sweater and jeans on top of his bag.

“Just get in.”

He pulled back the covers and slid next to Akashi, who leaned over and switched off the lights. Darkness enveloped the room, and the silence was permeated by their steady breath.

“Does your dad leave you alone a lot?” There was a pause before Akashi responded, “About every two weeks.”

“Don’t you miss him?”

“No.”

Midorima felt the bed shift and saw Akashi curl into a ball on the edge. He wanted to reach out and comfort his friend; to gather him in his arms and hold him until he uncurled. He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

His eyes opened and he saw Akashi facing him—brow taut and eyes narrowed. Midorima’s face flushed. “Why are you sorry, Shintarou?” Akashi repeated. There was a coldness in Akashi’s voice in the way he said Midorima’s name.

“Because you’re my friend and I don’t know why your father is never at home, but if you were my son I would make sure to be home for dinner every night and come to every basketball game. I would tell you how proud I was to have a son that was so brilliant and vivid and clever. I would brag to all other parents that you were my son.” He panted, feeling as if he just ran ten miles. His heart ached, but something lifted off of his chest.

Then Akashi leaned over and pressed his lips against Midorima’s.

Midorima froze.

Inches from Midorima, Akashi's eyes searched his face, looking for some reaction, and so Midorima surged up and kissed him again. This time was better. Akashi melted against him, and Midorima couldn't help but notice how nice Akashi felt in his arms. His lips were soft, and when Midorima licked into his mouth, he could taste the faint mint of his tooth paste.

"Promise me you'll never leave, Midorima." Akashi curled around his body, resting his head on Midorima's chest.

In the dark of the bedroom, Midorima listened to the boy's steady breathing and sold his heart to Akashi.

*****

Little did he know that it would be Akashi who left him.

After his duel with Murasakibara, Midorima waited outside of the locker room, twisting his tie between his fingers.

"What are you doing, Shintarou?"

He was gone, vanished as quickly as the hurried kiss they shared in the library earlier that day. It was break time and they were sitting in the library with their hands linked beneath the table, and Midorima looked up and found Akashi staring at him with a fond expression--he couldn't help but lean over and kiss him.

But he didn't see that Akashi in the boy standing before him.

"Would you like to come over this weekend? My father will be on a business trip?"

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, I can't."

It wasn't until they were on an away game that Midorima realised the extent of the loss of Akashi. Ever since that first kiss, they abandoned sleeping in two separate beds and Akashi claimed that he slept better with Midorima anyways. 

Akashi always clung to Midorima throughout the night. Although he woke up the next morning with a dead arm and a pool of saliva on his chest, it was worth it to wake up next to Akashi every morning with his face still slack from the throes of sleep. He would kiss the top of his head and pull him tighter.

But that night Akashi stayed on his side of the bed, lying on his back, hands folded neatly across his chest. Midorima grabbed his glasses off of the bedside table and climbed beneath the covers of the other bed.

*****

"There are two Akashis." 

Please don't hate me, he thought, hoping that Kuroko could fill in the blanks. He never told his former teammates of his theory, but he knew that he couldn't have been the only person who saw it.

He waited two full weeks after the Rakuzan and Seirin match to take the bus to Kyoto. He waited two weeks after he saw Akashi sink to the ground, realising that he failed, his eye couldn't see all. He wanted to run to the court and gather his friend into his arms like he had done so many times before. But Mibuchi pulled his friend to his feet and half-carried him to the locker room.

This house was larger than the one in Tokyo, he thought, standing outside the front door. He took a deep breath and knocked.

He was surprised when Akashi answered. His eye was gone, replaced by dark circles beneath.

"I guess that this is your doing."

"I promised that I wouldn't leave you."

Akashi glanced up. He looked tired, but softer. The harsh edges of his face were softened by the blow of defeat. "No, you never left me."

Midorima wanted to kiss him and feel him in his arms. But that would have to wait, and Midorima was patient.

He pulled out a DVD case from his bag. "I was hoping that you weren't busy."

Akashi smiled and stepped to the side to let Midorima in.


End file.
